Inked
by FanfictioningFangirl
Summary: Most people get their inking when they're thirteen. Everyone has someone by the time they're fifteen. Michelle Jones is fifteen, and her wrist is still uninked. Soulmate AU in which your soulmate's name appears on the inside of your wrist.


**Title: Inked**

**Summary: Most people get their inking when they're thirteen. Everyone has someone by the time they're fifteen. Michelle Jones is fifteen, and her wrist is still uninked. Soulmate AU in which your soulmate's name appears on the inside of your wrist.**

**Disclaimer: ****I am not associated with Marvel and make no profit from any of what I am posting.**

**Written For: **_booksarelife-stuff _**on Tumblr as part of the **_spideychellesecretsanta_**Tumblr gift exchange!**

* * *

_**Inked**_

MJ is thirteen when the world starts to fall apart.

It begins with Cindy. They're solving the worksheet Mrs Faraday has handed out and, save for the occasional whisper, their class is silent. Until Cindy shouts, her palm raised and an unmistakable inking visible on her wrist.

Ned drums his hands on the table, Flash whoops. Chris runs around the classroom, screaming. Cindy lowers her hand, and they gather around her, trying to take a peek at the name inked to her wrist.

_**Eliza**_

There are no Elizas in their grade. MJ doesn't even know any in their school.

"My neighbour's called Eliza," Alice says.

"My cousin too," someone else pipes in.

They waste the rest of their math class in pointless chatter and barely pay attention through Chemistry. Cindy's the first to be inked in their grade, but she's only the tip of the iceberg. Most people get their inking when they're thirteen. Everyone has someone by the time they're fifteen.

MJ knows her father keeps the name on his wrist covered. She knows her mother is always tight-lipped and angry at the mention of soulmates. She knows that, despite her joy, Cindy's parents were soulmates and still got a divorce.

The world isn't black and white, MJ tells herself. Everyone has someone but that someone isn't always your everything.

* * *

MJ is fourteen when she finds Betty in the girl's washroom, tears spilling from her eyes and a familiar five-letter name inked to the inside of her wrist.

There could be a hundred Cindy's in the world, and any of them could belong to Betty. But, something about the heartbreak in Betty's eyes tells MJ that there's only one Cindy she really wants.

"I didn't want it to be more than a crush," Betty tells MJ desperately. Like she's pleading with the soulmate gods and begging them to undo what they've done. But they both know the inking is permanent. They both know that sometimes, soulmates aren't meant to be.

Betty leaves the washroom with her hair open and a scrunchie around her wrist. If people wonder about it, they never ask, and MJ doesn't dare to bring it up again.

But she sees the face Betty makes when a girl named Eliza joins their class and slides into the seat next to Cindy; Just as she sees the look on Ned's face when he tells MJ that he has Betty's name on his wrist and she tells him that he isn't on hers.

They're fourteen years old, and some things are meant to be a certain way, but life isn't that simple, and most days it hurts.

* * *

Michelle Jones is fifteen, and her wrist is still uninked.

She wears a thick bracelet to hide her empty wrist and pretends to be like Betty and Ned, and everyone else who's already had their heartbroken. Sometimes, when she's on her own, she slides the bracelet out of place and runs a thumb over her uninked skin.

Everyone has someone. That's always been the rule. And yet, there's no name on Michelle's wrist; there's no one destined for her.

* * *

MJ is sixteen when Ned tells her that he's dating Betty.

"She doesn't know she's my soulmate," he confesses guiltily, "But we both agree that we deserve a shot at happiness."

MJ smiles and wishes Ned the best of luck. She tells him that she thinks the soulmate system is flawed. That it doesn't make sense for your soulmate to be somebody else's. That it shouldn't work like that. She tells him that her parents are happy even though the names on their wrists say they shouldn't be.

She doesn't tell Ned that Betty's been in love with Cindy since they were thirteen.

Because he's right, they deserve a shot at happiness and, unlike MJ, at least he's trying.

* * *

Michelle Jones is seventeen, and she hasn't checked her wrist in months.

Ned and Betty are still dating, Cindy finds yet another Eliza and a stranger of Facebook messages MJ asking if his name is on her wrist because apparently, Michelle is on his. (She cheers for Ned and Betty, encourages Cindy to explore and blocks the stranger.)

"Do you think there's a way to know?" Cindy asks her at graduation. "When you've found, you know, the one?"

And it should be odd that Cindy's asking her because MJ's probably the last person who would know; The last time she checked, her wrist was still blank, but she answers honestly anyway:

"I don't think there is."

Cindy huffs and adjusts the strap of her dress, glancing at where Ned and Betty are dancing together, looking like the happiest couple at Midtown High.

"I just don't want to end up like my parents."

"Maybe," MJ says, "you're expecting too much out of one person because someone somewhere said that they're destined to be the one. You don't find people who are perfect for you. You make them."

Cindy laughs at that. "Maybe I will," she says and then, squeezing her arm adds: "You're the best MJ."

MJ rolls her eyes but smiles at Cindy and, not for the first time, she thinks about telling someone about the blank space on her wrist. (She doesn't.)

* * *

MJ is eighteen, and she's just downed three cups of coffee and feels like she's sprinting through her European Studies essay. There's a boy sitting next to her, whose laptop has been shut all evening and is constantly dropping his stationary.

"Peter Parker," he'd said when he first sat down.

"Michelle Jones," she'd replied and, for a moment, it had felt like his eyes lit up.

She works on her essay; Peter chews his pencil, spins it between his fingers and when all else fails, he turns to Michelle and rambles about his ex-girlfriend/ soulmate. She honestly wishes he'd shut up.

"And then," he tells her for what must be the millionth time, "She said that Peter's a common name and she doesn't think that I'm the one her wrist is pointing to. I said no. There's only one of you, Mary Jane and —"

Michelle slams her pen on the table too loudly, and Peter looks at her, startled.

"Mary Jane this, Mary Jane that. Have you considered smoking some MaryJane? Maybe that would help." She says it louder than she intends to, but her brain is addled, and she's processing everything too slowly for it to make sense and Peter is staring at her with his mouth hanging open.

Then he bursts into a fit of giggles. And, maybe it's because of the large volumes of caffeine she's consumed, or perhaps it's because she's sleep-deprived as fuck, Michelle giggles too.

She wasn't destined to find her best friend in a coffee shop at two am. Nothing written, or not written, on her wrist would have ever led her to this. And yet, Michelle decides, the best things in life are the ones that you discover for yourself. Not the ones an inking on your wrist tells you to do.

* * *

Michelle Jones is nineteen, and she has slaughtered any semblance to a regular sleeping schedule she used to have. She sleeps at four, wakes up at seven, naps again at eleven. Her room's a mess, her life is messier, and she's never been happier.

Peter Parker isn't having it though.

He barges into her room at midnight, clears up her coffee cups, puts her laptop to sleep, helps her into a coat and drags Michelle out.

"This is an intervention," he declares, his fingers wrapped around her wrist as they march down the stairs. "You're not supposed to die studying, Michelle. That defeats the purpose of getting an education."

Michelle snorts at that. "I enjoy it," she says. And she really does. Late nights and unhealthy amounts of caffeine included.

"Well, there's no point of enjoying it if you're going to die before we graduate."

Michelle rolls her eyes. She disagrees, obviously, but she's not in the mood to argue about the functioning of the education system either.

They stop outside the chemical department — Peter's department — and he gets them burgers from a 24-hour food truck. They sit cross-legged on the footpath while Peter lectures her about sleeping on time and the ill effects of caffeine.

He hasn't rambled about Mary Jane since the first night they met. He got over Mary Jane a long time ago. After that, there was a Liz Allan, and then, a Gwen Stacey and Michelle sat through Peter's endless moping about both. Right now, there's nobody.

He hides his inking, though. Most of them do. Usually, Peter wears full-sleeved plaid shirts over his science pun tops but, when he doesn't, Michelle notices the watch he wears around his wrist.

"It used to belong to my Uncle's," Peter tells her when she asks.

He then takes her hand in his and, leaning in close enough that she can feel his breath against her skin, Peter points at every bracelet on her wrist one by one and stares at her expectantly. She feels uncomfortable under his gaze. His touch is feather soft, and, though the night is warm, Michelle shivers.

And, eyes refusing to meet his, Michelle tells Peter about how she got them. The simple braided one with a silver star was from Betty. The delicate copper-coloured one was a gift from her Mom. The thick plain one is what Michelle had pulled out from her collection when she'd first hidden her wrist.

"They're a part of me," she says. "I don't remember the last time I took them off." She doesn't remember the last time she stared at the blank space on her skin and cursed the world for not giving her a soulmate.

And she knows Peter doesn't get it. That he has he found his soulmate. That her name is inked to his wrist and his is inked on hers. She knows that Peter hides his wrist for reasons that are different from hers. But, when he laces their fingers together and squeezes her hand, she almost forgets how different they are.

When he laces their fingers together, everything feels okay.

* * *

Michelle is twenty and, for the first time in years, there's a new bracelet on her wrist.

"It's a coffee bean charm," Peter explains excitedly as he carefully clasps the bracelet. "Because you're obsessed."

It's not the first time someone's given her a bracelet for her birthday, but Michelle feels sparks shoot up her arm when Peter's fingers touch her skin, and she can't stop staring at the latest addition to her collection.

They get take out from Taco Bell, find a spot in the middle of the lawn. Michelle sits cross-legged, Peter nearly spills his coke on the grass. He tells her about the guest lecture from Tony Stark for the millionth time and then rants about this asshole named Brad, who sits in front of him. And Michelle nods like she hasn't heard the stories before if only to listen to Peter's endless ramblings.

He's wearing a hoodie she got him, its sleeves extending to his fingers. His hair is windswept, and he's waving his hand as he rambles. There's ketchup on his chin, and ketchup on his lips and she should be listening to him, but there's something else on her mind now.

Michelle doesn't believe in soulmates. She doesn't believe in being destined to be with someone. She believes in doing what she wants to do instead of what an inking her to do. And right now, Michelle really wants to kiss Peter Parker.

So she wraps her fingers around his wrist, lowers his hand and kisses a stunned Peter Parker on the lips.

And he kisses her back. Softly at first, then leaning forward so that she's struggling to sit upright. And a part of Michelle is scared that he'll disappear the moment she pulls away. That she'll lose him if she doesn't hold on forever.

Peter pulls away first, a sly smile creeping up his face. "Didn't wanna get ketchup in your hair," he explains, waving jis fingers in front of her face. Michelle rolls her eyes. Swats his hand away .

But, eyes gleaming, Peter wraps his ketchup-ed hand around hers, falls back on the ground, tugging Michelle along with him so that her head is on his chest. Then he laughs and Michelle cracks a smile, leaning over to press her lips against his once more.

For the first time ever, she doesn't care that she isn't destined for anybody.

(For the first time, Michelle has someone.)

* * *

Michelle Jones is twenty-one, and she's dragged Peter, back to Queens for the holidays.

They're headed for her daily dose of coffee when they meet Betty and, somewhere between 'We haven't talked in ages' and 'We should catch up', she ends up at a New Year's party at Betty's place.

Abe's dancing in a corner with Chris. There's Alice from maths and Tina from geography. She spots Flash holding hands with a pretty brunette Michelle doesn't recognise. It's only been three years since she left school, but it already feels like a lifetime ago.

She introduces Peter to anyone who matters. She points out Flash, Cindy, Ned and the rest of her Decathlon Team. It takes Peter two minutes to exclaim about Ned's Star Wars t-shirt and, before she knows it, the two start talking at a pace Michelle can barely keep up with.

Betty drags her away from the boys and tells Michelle that she's thinking of moving in with Ned. She says that college is good. That she isn't ashamed to have Cindy's name inked to her wrist and that she knows that Ned has her name on his.

At thirteen, it had felt like the world was falling apart. Nearly eight years later, the names on their wrists don't scare them as much. Betty no longer hides her inking. Ned proudly shows his off to the world. Once upon a time, they'd all been scared of the truth. Now, most of them aren't.

Except for Michelle.

And it feels wrong when Betty, in all earnest, says: "Thank you MJ," because she doesn't feel like she deserves it. At fifteen, she'd said that soulmates didn't matter because she wanted to convince herself that they didn't. Now, looking at her classmates, Michelle _knows_ that the inking doesn't have to mean a thing.

At midnight, Peter finds her again and kisses her till well after the clock strikes twelve. The music gets louder. The dancing wilder and, after a quick goodbye from Betty ("Promise you'll reply to my texts, MJ"), Michelle drags Peter out.

"Is this an intervention?" he jokes.

Michelle rolls her eyes. "Yes," she says. "I just wanted to check that you weren't going to leave me for Ned."

"I don't know," Peter says, pressing his lips to her cheek. "I think I might."

She elbows him im the gut, then links her arm into his and Peter tugs her closer to him.

Michelle shows him her school, the Barnes and Nobles she used to frequent, and her favourite coffee shop. She tells him about that time she broke her nose because she dropped a copy of Deathly Hallows on herself. About that time she nearly killed her neighbour's cat when cycling.

It's nearly two when they stop and sit down on the swings in a park Michelle used to play in, Michelle rocking herself back and forth and Peter sitting still.

"You didn't tell me your friends called you MJ."

She blinks. Looks at him. "Huh?"

"Your friends. Betty, Ned. All the others we met. They all call you MJ."

And Michelle shrugs. "I was MJ at school," she says. "I rebranded in college."

Peter stops his swing abruptly and Michelle watches, eyebrow raised as he walks to her. He kneels down in the snow and mud and tucks the hair that's falling over Michelle's face behind her ear.

"I never showed you my inking," Peter whispers. And she opens her mouth to protest. To tell him that she doesn't want to see Mary Jane's name on his wrist. That there's a reason why she's shut down every conversation about soulmates in the past. But he's pushed his sleeve back and carefully undoes his watch.

Except, Peter's inking doesn't spell out Mary Jane's name. It's only two letters long: _**MJ**_

Mary Jane.

Michelle Jones.

Her heart stops.

She thinks she's going to cry.

"What's on yours?" Peter asks, and Michelle shakes her head.

She's never told him about the empty spot on her wrist. There are conversations they've never had — conversations that she's made a point to avoid. She's never told anyone that she's destined to be alone. And, though the name on Peter Parker's wrist has to mean something, it's a reminder of the fact that she isn't destined to be with anyone. That fate has always been cruel to her.

She squeezes her eyes shut. Tries to pull her hand away from Peter. "It's empty," she whispers.

Peter frowns at her like he thinks she's lying, and shakes his head. She feels him push back her sleeve and carefully unclasp the bracelets she's acquired over the years.

There are tears in her eyes, and tears rolling down her cheeks. *Please," she begs because Peter'll only be disappointed. Because nobody wants to date an abomination with no name on their wrist. Because she hasn't checked her wrist since she was sixteen and what if a name has appeared? What if the name isn't Peter?

(What if he doesn't like what he sees and chooses to leave her?)

The last bracelet comes off, and Michelle looks down.

Her skin is paler underneath all the layers. It's soft and untouched and, right in the middle, written in black ink is a five-letter name: _**Peter**_

* * *

Michelle Jones is twenty-two and she still wears a dozen bracelets on her right hand. She doesn't care that her name is inked on Peter's wrist or that his name is inked on hers.

From a crowd of thousands, she chose Peter Parker. And, that's all that matters.

* * *

**I was watching _The Good Place_ the other day when Michael said: "**_If soulmates do exist, they're not found. They're made. People meet, they get a good feeling, and then they get to work building a relationship."_

**And, as someone who's always loved Soulmate AUs where the characters don't end up with their soulmate or fall in love with their soulmates before knowing that they are soulmates, something about the quote just clicked. So here's a fic that, hopefully, fits Michael's description and I really hope you guys like it!**

**I do have another Soulmate AU WIP called Joint Souls and Broken Bones that you can check out, and I will have a fluffy fic out in the next week or so featuring Peter Parker's abs and hoodies!**

**As always, thanks for reading!**


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